Fable: The Return Chapter 35
The king finally meets with the man Theresa sent him to see. Chapter 35 "It has been a long time? Has it not?" The hooded man asks. The King responds, "I'm sorry, I do not recall my knowing of your voice." Reaver taps the King on his shoulder then steps forward, "He isn't talking to you, your majesty." He now directs his attention to the hooded man. "Yes, it has been a long time. You call me a friend, but I don't seem to remember you being friendly with me for the longest time." "I was busy, my studies brought me up here to the North. So much has happened here and still lies beneath the ice. So many secrets of the Old Kingdom." "That's no excuse for not even sending a letter. For goodness sakes, Garth…you're a Will user! Use a cullis gate or something!" The King steps in front of Reaver this time. "Garth? I remember that name…show yourself to me." The King is in a sense of wonder at the name for some odd reason. The hooded man raises both hands to his hood and swiftly removes it from his head. Before him lies the aged face of Garth, the great Will user who also helped his father defeat Lucien in The Spire. His dark face now riddled with deep wrinkles. The blue glow from the astounding levels of Will power that flowed through every vein now dimmed to the faintest shimmer under his skin. His hair is still tied together in rows, but is now longer, dirty, and pure gray. Nearly white eyes stare blankly at the company, his vision has obviously diminished to being almost blind. Through all of the signs of old age and weakened stature, Garth's face is lightened by a soft smile. "The years have not been kind to you, Garth." Reaver announces. "Yes, and I see that the years haven't changed your face one bit, only your social status." "I must admit, I have moved up a bit in the ranks of the world." "A business man, with no interest in a life at sea anymore." "I stand before you, this required me to take a venture at sea. The sea and I share a distinct bond, like a first love. No matter how many centuries she has been dead and forgotten, something brings her back." "Unless I am mistaken in my memories, you have only loved one woman in all of your life." "Ah, well I don't like to dwell on specific details." "Of course, just as I remember you. Tell me, Reaver, have you gone back to Samarkand after our first adventure?" "Funny you should bring that up, I'm actually going to be taking up a seat of-" "Garth, I need to speak with you." The King interrupts Reaver's revelation of his promise. "As I have gathered, come…I have a home in the city." They all wander through the gates into Snowspire city. The city has changed much since anyone from Albion has last set foot inside, other than Garth of course. It is now a sprawling city full of colorful buildings and proud, strong people. It would be a wonderful sight and tourist spot if it wasn't for the wintry conditions that plague the land. Cobblestone streets are covered with blankets of snow, icicles hang from rooftops, and rolling cityscapes are hidden by thick clouds. Garth leads them down several streets, up a few paths, and through a snowy field all the way up to a plain brown door. They all shuffle into Garth's lowly home and are dazzled by the artifacts in his possession. Large, leather-bound books litter the assortment of bookshelves throughout the living area. Minor statues, strange runes, old keys, and oddly shaped relics all rest on pedestals of varying size set up in no particular order. Papers with poorly scribbled notes nearly cover the flooring which appears to be a form of tile. Garth's house is a mess, but he seems to move about it with ease. "Now tell me, what is it you have come here for, your majesty?" "Theresa sent me." "I know, otherwise you would know to come here. Very few remain in this world who know that I am even living, even fewer know that I reside here in the North." "So you know why I have come?" "No, I just know that you are here. Your reason for being so is a mystery to me." "There is little time to explain, so I will just show you and perhaps you will know." The King reaches into a leather bag that Reaver provided for him and pulls out the two masks that they have so far acquired, those of the Knight and the Queen of Blades. "How…how did these things come to your possession?" "I have taken them…with a purpose to seek their destruction." "I had wondered why there was a shift in the normal flow of the world in the recent weeks…you have taken the masks from their resting places to destroy them…but why?" "The Court of Blades…they reign over Albion, spreading havoc and fire wherever they gaze." "Ah, so that was it then. I should have thought that removing the masks would not change the air so much…so they have returned. I will not ask how they managed to make their way into our plane of existence, I gather you had something to do with it." The King nods shamefully at this. "Do not worry, they have been tricksters for many millennia and are quite experienced in capitalizing on any opportunity to return. You are not the first…I only hope that you will be the last." Garth grabs the two masks from the King and inspects them closely. "The mask of the Queen, guarded in Wraithmarsh behind a Demon Door by the Knights Aberrant…I can imagine that was quite a battle. And this the…the mask of the Knight." He stares for a great long while at this mask. "Buried where the dead walk behind the gates of the Necropolis. Hidden under the river and guarded eternally by a horde of Hollowmen and Frost Giants. How did you achieve this? This mask it was…buried where no man could swim long enough to hold breathe." "I did not gain this one by finding where it was hidden. Lucien Fairfax had it in his possession." "Lucien?!" Garth's eyes widen and he nearly jumps out of his seat. "He died centuries ago! I watched the bullet go into his skull…I saw him fall from the height of The Spire! How did he manage to have this mask…he had never been to the North…he never…never left the castle until he built The Spire." "He survived the bullet and the fall…since that time he has lived up here in the North…high in the mountains." "Of course! I always knew something was up there…but I was too weak to seek out what it was. I trust Lucien is dead for sure this time." Reaver steps in, "I took care of that one, old friend. He is quite dead, and he gave us this nice souvenir," he says, motioning to the mask. "I don't see how a man like Lucien Fairfax found a way to gain this mask…all in all, he is dead and the mask is recovered. Now we must destroy them before the Court can get them, is that correct?" "Yes," the King replies. But before that…we need one more question answered." "And what is that?" "The Jack's mask, just to be sure, do we know it is truly destroyed?" Garth stares into the King's eyes intently, thinking long and hard, as if feeling the world around him for an answer. "I can honestly say that the mask's fate is a mystery to me. And if that is so, then the Court should also be oblivious to the fate of the Jack's mask. As you must know, it rests under a pool of molten rock behind the Golden Gates up here in the North." The King nods. "You should not worry much about it…there is no way that it can be reached. Now…we must find a way to go about destroying these monstrosities."